


A Token of Distant Memory

by nonky



Series: The Kind Series [1]
Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: "Hi, Oliver, it's Jane," she said slowly. "Maybe you're through with me after the last time we spoke, and I can understand that. I realized I've told you a lot of nothing about me. It's not fair to ask about you and not give anything back."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the Jane/Oliver scene in 2x15. Sorry for the Jeller shippers, I know a lot of you don't like Oliver. I like him as a minor character, and a little slice of normal life for Jane. Melodramatic love triangles suck, but a well-written character can teach one party of an OTP a lot about being a good partner once they have a chance at being together. If Weller can be supportive, I can watch ten minutes of Jane/Oliver over the whole season. We still get a whole lot more Jane/Weller. Most importantly, I never want to see a strong female character denied a chance to develop because she's not able to be with the man she loves.

It was terrible being surprised by her own guilt.

Jane Doe had learned to apologize very late in her life, but with sincerity that cost her strips of flesh and acidic remorse replacing her blood. She'd known the idea of being sorry, but the revelation of being culpable had struck her like a bullet she'd shot herself months earlier. 

She knew hypocrisy and the harm of blame. She understood the tangle of feeling hurt at the same time she recognized she had deflected the hurt to others. The way back to even a little trust was grueling, and forgiveness had to be earned from the people in her life and then from her own self. 

Everything with Oliver Kind had been pleasant and fun. He had no hold over her, so spending her time with him was free. He liked her enough to carry the conversation over awkwardness, armed with suggestions of activities that didn't get too romantic. He learned not to wonder why she didn't have favourite books or movies but had hundreds of tattoos. He spent hours giving her options and her only obligation was to listen to his pitches. 

She owed him a phone call. It was unmistakably her move this time. She could let him go back to his life, but that didn't make her own prying better. Anyone would be offended, and she hadn't been sensitive bringing up his name change. 

She dialed his number, taking her time and punching it into the phone. It rang a few times, and she ignored the heavy feeling of nerves. When it went to voicemail, she realized she couldn't compromise FBI cases by talking about the present. If she wanted to share something, it would be from the distant past. 

"Hi, Oliver, it's Jane," she said slowly. "Maybe you're through with me after the last time we spoke, and I can understand that. I realized I've told you a lot of nothing about me. It's not fair to ask about you and not give anything back."

She paused, being careful to avoid anything dangerous for him to hear. Shepherd was ruthless and Oliver didn't know to watch out for her.

"I can tell you about my childhood, though my memories are minimal. I grew up with a brother in South Africa. Our parents worked to abolish apartheid, and that got them killed before I was ten. My brother and I went to an orphanage," she said, feeling every word like a misery. 

"The orphanage wasn't run by good people. They were training us to be soldiers. You paid for your food and board by learning to be violent. I had my brother to look after, and I worked hard to become dangerous. Beating up the other kids created a kind of safety, and earned privileges. The U.S. military found us eventually, but we'd been there years. A normal family wouldn't have been able to handle us. Our lives were never going to be peaceful again."

It sounded like so much, laid out as simply as that, and it was so little of her story. Oliver had no idea how much of a burden he'd been lifting, and telling him felt like Jane was sabotaging any future dates. 

"I'm sorry I asked about you as if I had the right to know everything," she said. "I wasn't being fair. I work for the FBI because I got myself in a lot of trouble, and right now my brother is locked up. My work is classified, and I'm still recovering memories to piece together my past. I don't know if you want to be involved with me. I'm not good at dating or being close. It's difficult to trust. I've done bad things."

She was going to be cut off, and Jane knew the message was too long. She'd meant to offer something small and happy, but those things were used up on their first couple of dates. Her focus had been on Roman and Kurt, and she hadn't been giving Oliver the consideration he deserved if they were going to date.

"I hope you can forgive me, even if I don't hear from you. I like you and I'm grateful for the time we've spent together. This is such a long message, I'm sorry - you know how to reach me, only if you'd like. Bye, Oliver."

She hung up, heart pounding. The phone call had been more terrifying than a real fight, as if the emotional danger would pinch her heart shut and kill her. She knew it was irrational to just stare at the phone and wait for a response, but she did it anyway.


End file.
